


Gods Don't Hear Dead Men

by ContemplativeWordsmith



Category: Outlast (Video Games), The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Babylonian Mythology - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Dreamscapes, Horror, Illnesses, Mythology References, Nightmares, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Tiamat - Freeform, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContemplativeWordsmith/pseuds/ContemplativeWordsmith
Summary: Alex Reagan, intrepid reporter, producer, and voice of The Black Tapes podcast, popular series from Pacific Northwest Stories, follows a lead deep into the Arizona high-country with her friend and subject of her podcast Dr. Richard Strand. Several days prior a man had been found collapsed on a remove hiking trail, his flesh carved with the sacred geometry of the Cult of Tiamat. Though tenacious in spirit and a fighter by nature, even Alex may not survive the horrors that await her and Dr. Strand within this desert.(Outlast II plot meets TBTP characters and Babylonian mythology)





	1. Prologue

_It was dark. Not an infinite kind of darkness, but simply without light. She was in a room. There as a scent – coppery, like old pennies, with an overlay of something sweet… and rotting. She could hear something creaking in the darkness, a soft groaning of something heavy pulling on a rope, as if threatening to fall off. Suddenly, the darkness felt too small; she froze, the sweet reek of blood and decay choking her as the creaking grew louder and louder; a body swinging back and forth and back and forth and –_

“Alex.” 

Alex jolted awake, the back of her head smacking against her headrest. Richard watched her carefully from across the helicopter, blue eyes bright in the late afternoon light.

“You were muttering in your sleep,” he said, voice static-y through his headset.

“….. I was dreaming,” Alex replied. 

“What about?” 

“Maddy.” 

“The housekeeper.” 

“Yes.”

“It’s been some time since you mentioned having a nightmare. Was... there anything else?” 

A beat. 

“… No.” 

Eager to derail the topic before it progressed any farther, Alex turned to look out the window, admiring the expanse of desert high country below them. “Where are we?” 

Richard regarded at her with an unreadable expression and, for a moment, Alex was worried he was going to push the subject; instead he simply adjusted his glasses and consulted a small GPS. “Near the mountain pass. We should be flying over it in a few minutes.”  
“The location that Nic found.” 

“Yes.” 

“… Alright. We should start recording. Get an introduction before we land.” 

Bending forward as far as her harness would allow, Alex grabbed the bag sitting at her feet and pulled out a handheld video camera. It wasn’t a high-tech model by any means, but she had been impressed by the audio and night vision capabilities when she tested it back at the hotel. The battery life, however, left much to be desired; hopefully she had brought enough to last the excursion into the mountains. Removing the lens cover, she checked that everything was in working order and turned it on, the small LCD screen flickering to life. 

“Okay. I’m going to shoot off center to get as much of the background as I can. You’re good to go whenever.”

Richard shifted in his seat, eyeing the camera. “Remind me again, why are you videotaping this, exactly? You run a podcast, an audio-based medium that wouldn’t benefit from video. It would be easier to simply use your recorder. Not to mention the ambient noise from the helicopter alone will destroy any audio.” 

“Nic is thinking about adding additional content to the website,” she replied, “Behind the scenes clips and such. Paul and Terry thought it would be a good idea for us to pilot the program, since Nic is still compiling audio for the next episode of Tanis, and we were heading out into the field.” 

“Anyways, like I said, we’re ready to go.” 

“… What would you like me to say?” 

“Recap the situation, like we normally do.” 

Richard sighed.

“Alright. Two days ago, we –"

The helicopter suddenly lurched to the side, throwing them against their restraints. The pilot yelled an apology over the din and the craft leveled out, and after a moment he signaled the all-clear. Exchanging a look, Alex and Richard settled back into their seats. 

“Well…. That was something,” Alex commented dryly. 

“Quite.” Richard agreed, “Were you ready for me to continue?” 

“Yes, go ahead.” 

Richard got as comfortable as he could in the tight space and addressed the camera: “Two days ago an anonymous email was sent to the Institute containing a series of numbers, which were latitude and longitude coordinates. Shortly after, a local news station for the area reported that hikers discovered a young man collapsed on the trail. This in of itself wasn’t unusual, given the time of year and the trail’s notoriety for being a treacherous hike, but what drew my attention were the reports of the man himself. According to the medical report, he was covered in markings.” 

“Like…. Painted on?” 

“No.” 

“They were carved into his skin.” 

Alex winced. “Jesus…” 

“I managed to get a copy of the medical report through some connections. The markings follow the pattern for sacred geometry almost exactly, save for a few… differences. The primary being that, over his heart, whoever had done this carved the sign of Tiamat.” 

“So, you believe the Cult of Tiamat is responsible.”

“Yes. Or, at the very least, the man was once a member of the cult.” 

“Okay… Devil’s Advocate, but couldn’t he have carved the symbols himself?” 

“Perhaps, but he would have to be exceptionally skilled and flexible to cover his entire body, and almost immune to both pain and blood loss.” 

“And that’s why we’re out here now, to look for evidence of the Cult.”

“Yes, my theory is that they, like the Brothers of the Mount, will either have maintained whatever death pact they may have sealed with the young man, or, will have moved on to avoid detection by the sheriff department. In any case – “ 

The helicopter lurched again, the roar of the engine rising to a metallic screech. Alex heard the pilot shout in alarm as a bright, white light filled the cabin, washing everything out of existence for the briefest of moments. 

Momentarily blinded, Alex struggled to stay in her seat as they plummeted, descending faster than what seemed possible. Equipment hurtled about the cabin, Alex’s bag narrowly missing her head as it whipped around unchecked; for a heart-stopping moment she felt her harness loosen, threatening to throw her from her seat. Across from her, Richard had his feet planted into the corners of the cabin, his fingertips dug into the seat for dear life. Later Alex would realize that at some point his harness had come undone, leaving him in the seat from pressure alone.

The helicopter jolted, the door shearing off from the action and the force of it knocking Richard from his seat. He fell backwards towards open space as Alex’s own harness gave; she lunged, snagging hold of his shirt-sleeve and barely stopping him from falling out of the craft.

Screaming obscenities, the pilot fought to regain control of the helicopter as they continued to spiral towards the earth. Dimly, Alex realized she too was screaming, her voice muffled as Richard drew her closer, his arms locked around her. Again, the helicopter shuddered; there was the sound of ripping metal and suddenly she was being dragged out of Richard’s arms by some invisible force. Eyes wide with fear, Richard reached for her, his voice carrying over the wind. 

_“ALEX!”_


	2. The Mantle Cometh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex wakes bathed firelight, alone, the helicopter little more than a smoldering wreckage. Camcorder in hand, she starts towards a seemingly deserted town, hoping, praying, to find help or Richard. She finds Richard, but help could not be further from this place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A huge shout out to my good friends Shadow and Azzy, who beta read this chapter and who let me bounce ideas off of when writing <3 )

_The hallway was long, longer than she remembered. “Liminal spaces” Richard had once called them; a place or road usually traversed without thought. To stop or stand still upsets the natural, habitual perception. The beige walls and beige carpeting of the hallway’s décor seemed to blend together as she walked, the sound of her footsteps an intrusion in the otherwise silent apartment building. Alex remembered that she was looking for Maddy’s apartment number, though it seemed strange that Nic wasn’t with her; she could have sworn he was at her shoulder a minute ago … Alex put the thought out of her mind and glanced at a random door number – she was getting close. Three doors later she checked again, but instead of cheap brass numbers, a pentagram in concentric circles was emblazoned on the wood, the metal looking unnaturally clean in the cheap lighting._

_Alex realized then that she was dreaming. The hallway took on a familiarity that went beyond the bland coloration – this was a place she walked almost every night: find Maddy’s room number, open the door, wake up. The lucid dreaming was something new however._

_Alex pushed forward, eager to wake up. Soon the walls were covered in sacred geometry, thick black scrawl obliterating the beige paint, a familiar room number staring back at her. Alex knew what was on the other side. Darkness. Blood stains. A body, swinging from a rope. She grabbed the doorknob and pushed her way inside, resignation overriding fear. However, instead of darkness, she was met with a wall of red; a tidal wave of blood poured from the room, knocking her off her feet. Alex was submerged, the smell of blood and decay filling her nose, her mouth, her lungs, drowning her –_

Alex woke choking on a scream, for a moment still believing herself to be drowning in blood. Blinking stars out of her vision, she realized she was on her back, the night sky above her. A weight was pinning her legs, and upon sitting up she found herself half underneath a large chunk of scrap. Shoving the scrap to the side Alex struggled to her feet. Miraculously the camcorder Nic had given her survived the crash; it sat amongst the debris, red light still blinking. Alex picked it up with shaking fingers and dusted it off, checking for damage. Somehow, holding it gave her a sense of security. 

“Richard?” she called out, voice cracking, “Richard!!!” 

There was no response.

Voice echoing off the desert walls, Alex started down the incline. She had collapsed (landed?) on the side of what looked like a large ravine or small canyon, and she had to fight to keep her balance as she picked her way down, small stones skittering into the darkness. 

She risked a look at the path ahead, and gasped. 

“Ohmygod…” 

The remains of the helicopter burned, flames licking the night sky and filling the air with smoke. Tripping over her feet, Alex abandoned caution for haste and ran the last several yards to the crash, her initial horror turning to shocked relief when it became clear there was no one in the crash. That meant there was still a chance that Richard might be alive. Alex shook her head; no, that meant Richard _was_ alive. He had to be.

Alex tried to use the glow of the fire to light her path, but the trail fell away into darkness a few feet beyond the clearing; turning on the recorder, she activated the night vision, sending a quiet thanks to Nic for grabbing one with the feature. The dull green glow of the screen turned her face a ghoulish tint, something she ignored as she started further down the path. It was treacherous footing, full of rocks and moon sand, and Alex found herself having to focus to keep her footing. Reaching the bottom of yet another incline, she took a moment to look around and get her bearings – and promptly screamed. 

A body lay upon the ground, broken, and mutilated. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the face was gone, as if someone had ripped it off. 

Alex swore. “What the _fuck_? Shit… that… did _not_ happen in the crash…”

Collecting her wits, Alex turned her back on the corpse and continued down the trail. She refused to think about what lay behind her, what the implications might be, for her and for Richard. The body had been fresh, and, if she thought about it, it was roughly the pilot’s height and build. Someone had done that recently, perhaps minutes after the crash. 

Kicking her way through a thicket of dead bushes, Alex emerged in a proper clearing, the desert wind cold against her skin. Below her she could just make out a town, bathed in the watery light of the full moon. 

“Oh, thank god,” she breathed, “I thought we were miles away…” 

It was a blessedly short sprint down to the first house. Alex noticed an old windmill and some farm equipment as she approached, but no vehicle or signs of life. Vaulting the fence, she ran up the porch and banged on the door. 

“Hello?” she called, “Please, if anyone’s home I need help. We were in a helicopter crash and I can’t find my friend.” 

There was no response, and upon stepping back Alex realized that the window had been boarded up and the porch was held together with a prayer alone. It was obvious no one had lived here in a long time, and yet…. Something felt off. Grip tight on her camcorder, Alex trudged further into town, breaking into a light jog. Each house she passed was in a similar state of disrepair, but the feeling of “off-ness” – her gut feeling Nic would say – grew stronger the longer she walked. 

After walking about the length of two city blocks, Alex came to a dead end. Barbed wire lined the top of almost barricade-like fencing, preventing anyone from getting in, or out, and stopping Alex dead in her tracks. 

“Dammit.”

Alex swore and looked around for some way to get around it. She could see a church spire rising up beyond a small field in what she could only guess was the town center. Richard had to be there, or, if nothing else, something to help her find him. That was the only logical choice that she could see. Determined to find a way around, Alex began to walk down the length of the fence, searching for any kind of break or hole or imperfection she could exploit; finding nothing after ten yards, Alex doubled back and searched the other direction, hoping to find _something _. About eight yards past her start point the fence ended, the wire and wood bolted into the side of a large house, just as dilapidated as the rest. The back porch, or, what was left of it, was on the other side of the barrier. Okay, she reasoned, that was one problem solved. Now she needed to find a way to get into the house; which was easier than she anticipated.__

____

____

The door was stuck fast, but the window opened easily, the frame almost splitting as Alex forced it up. She wasted no time in clambering inside. Small plumes of dust rose when her sneakers hit the old floorboards, making her choke; the smell of must and dead things was nearly overwhelming. Covering her mouth with her hand, Alex crossed the room and had one foot out the opposite window when something shiny caught her eye. A battery, suspiciously new, sat on one of the weathered bookshelves. Not taking the time to think about it, Alex grabbed the battery and threw it into her pocket as she started in the direction of the church. It was taller than she had initially thought, rising above the trees and decrepit town like a final cry for salvation. One more city block and she would be there. 

So focused on her destination, Alex neglected her surroundings as she rounded a corner onto yet another deserted boulevard. Wisps of fog curled across the ground, obscuring her feet and turning anything beyond Alex’s immediate vicinity to a smudgy outline. The air was heavy despite the breeze, and every so often Alex could swear she heard whispers carried by the wind. Alex gave her head a shake, thinking it was only her imagination – the atmosphere and the adrenaline finally affecting her. She was sorely mistaken. 

Down the road, a figure stood, tall and looming. Oblivious, Alex continued forward, the additional shadow melting together with all the others she perceived through the fog. It wasn’t until her thoughts were broken by the dull crunch of gravel that Alex noticed the shadow, realizing with a jolt that it was not as still as it initially appeared. It moved, slowly, methodically, as if sleepwalking, whispering with every breath. 

“Great is her power. Her might. Her pull. She who will rend and tear the earth. Return it to water, salty and sweet…” 

Speaking in a voice as dry as the desert floor, the shadow, or rather, the figure shuffled forward, their long, almost loping gait strangely hindered. “Great is her influence, great is her chaos. Soon she shall rise, whole and united. Great is her general, her second. Great I shall be, protecting her coming… I shall rid the world of the unworthy, the ungrateful…. Those that seek to trespass upon her sacred grounds of resurrection…” 

Too late Alex realized that _she _was the trespasser. Taking to her heels, she sprinted for one of the abandoned buildings, nearly losing her grip on the camcorder in her haste. Behind her, the figure’s mutterings rose in pitch, and they abandoned their slow shuffle to pursue her with a terrifying speed.__

____

____

Alex didn’t dare glance over her shoulder as she tore through overgrown gardens and vaulted crumbling ruins, her pant legs tearing and skin bleeding from the thorny underbrush. Behind her, the man – for now she was guessing – was screaming epithets filled with fury and the promise of death and destruction to honor the coming of chaos. She ran through another thicket, dead branches whipping at her face and clawing at her hands. She ran until her lungs burned and her vision went fuzzy and still she felt she was being chased. The Hounds were after her – two-legged deer and monks in grey robes, chasing and chasing and never tiring, hunting her down until finally she’ll have to stop – 

A raised root caught the toe of her sneaker and Alex went down, sprawling across the dirt. Hands raised above her head, she anticipated a blow, a grab, but nothing happened. Somehow in her panic fueled sprint she had lost her pursuer, and an overactive imagination kept her running. Looking around, Alex realized she was at the town’s center – the church stood tall, a monolith against the dark sky. The frantic thudding of her heart began to slow, and Alex became aware of a new voice, tinny and almost robotic, projected from loudspeakers perched atop the church spire. 

“… and so, pinned by the seven winds, Tiamat was rent in tow by the foolish and arrogant Marduk! Her blood was spilled, her body, used, her very essence desecrated!! But now… now the earth carved from her bones is sick. Dying. And so, it must be that Chaos wipes clean these bones once more! The Mantle has returned and with its presence Tiamat shall rise once again!” 

The Mantle. Richard. They had Richard. Alex forced herself to her feet, the knowledge that… _someone_ had Richard enough to give her the energy she needed. She ran around the church, looking for a way in; even she knew that barreling in the front door would likely get her killed. The sides of the church were almost bare, save for a few high, thin windows, one of which appeared at least partially broken. Half of the pane lay in shattered remains, the wooden frame splintered. Alex wasted no time in boosting herself up, wincing as the wood and glass threatened to pierce her clothes; she could already hear Nic scolding her for taking such risks, but she’d be damned if she left without Richard. 

The window opened into a long hallway, the wallpaper having long since faded to an unremarkable grey. The carpet was threadbare and ripped in places, exposing wooden boards worn with neglect. There were no doors, only two directions: left and right. After a second’s deliberation Alex chose to go left, a direction that would take her further away from the front. She crept along, marveling at how large the church was – the hallway stretched nearly the full length of the building before branching off into several smaller corridors. It was a random pick as to which one would lead Alex closer to her goal. She made her choice and started off at a crouch, going as fast as she dared. Each hallway was identical to the one before it, and soon she was hopelessly turned around. The only thing keeping her going was the sound of the preacher’s voice (for that is the only title that she could put to such a voice), which bled through the walls with startling clarity. 

“The Mantle shall usher in the apocalypse – the cleansing of this wretched world! Tell me, do you accept your destiny?” 

“This is ridiculous. The fact that you people believe my _blood_ somehow holds the key –” 

“Not your blood!! **_You._** You hold the key to the earth’s salvation! To its reckoning. And you _will_ see Tiamat to her rightful place back upon this world!!” 

Richard. Alex sped up, not caring about the noise she may be making as she raced up a narrow staircase to the upper level, the voices growing louder as she went. Just a little farther – maybe another hall or door – and she would be at what she could only guess was the main room. 

There was the sound of breaking glass, and Alex raced to a nearby window; she forced the latch and leaned out in time to see a man fall to the ground, rolling through the dirt. Even in the dirty light filtering through the church windows, she recognized him. Without thought as to the distance, Alex clambered out the window and let herself drop, barely keeping her camcorder from being smashed as she tucked and rolled. 

“Richard!” She shouted, racing to his side. 

“A-Alex…” 

Richard was a _mess_. Dirt and dried blood caked his face, one eye partially shut, his hair sticking up in all directions. At some point he must have lost his glasses. Alex grabbed his arm, knowing they had maybe seconds. “Richard…. Jesus… we need to get moving.” 

“Alex…” Richard seemed confused, stunned even. He stared at her as if trying to determine whether or not she was real. 

“Richard, come _on!_ ” 

“I… yes, we need to get as far away as possible.” 

Staggering to his feet, Richard set an almost frantic pace back towards the mountains, stepping over cacti and threading through dead trees with a single minded focus. Alex did her best to keep up, the camera’s night vision being the only thing keeping her shorter legs from catching on the thorny plants. 

“Richard. H-Hold on…” she panted. 

“We don’t have time, Alex. We need to get away.” 

“I know that. But what happened? What did they –” 

“ _Alex._ Richard wheeled around to face her, his eyes overbright with… something. Fear? “Please. We need to keep moving.” 

He took her by the hand and set off again, still at that wild pace. 

“I-I’ll explain everything later,” he said, “just as soon as we –“ 

Richard broke off with a noise of pain, free hand going to his chest. Behind them, Alex could hear shouts and the preacher’s voice echoing over the din. 

“They’re looking for us. C’mon.” 

Alex tightened her grip and took the lead, practically dragging Richard with her. Whatever manic energy he possessed earlier was gone, and he now had to fight to keep up with her strides, breathing as if they were running a marathon. 

“Alex,” he gasped, “I need to stop…. Please…” 

Not waiting for an answer, Richard stopped on the pathway and sank to his knees. Left without a choice, Alex knelt down next to him and gently set her hand on his shoulder. 

“Richard,” she said, “That… town. That preacher… the cult. What the hell did they **do** to you??”

“The conductor.” 

“What?” 

“He’s called the conductor.” Richard’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Please Alex. I can’t - … not… now.” 

He made another pained whine and curled in on himself. “… _Fuck._ ” 

“Jesus. Richard what did they **_do_**?!” Alex tugged at his hands until finally Richard let them drop, exposing his shredded flannel and the skin beneath. “Ohmygod…” 

The skin of Richard’s chest was ripped to shreds, carved with intricate symbols she had seen only in relation to sacred geometry. “Oh Richard…” 

“They did…. Terrible things,” Richard stared up at her. He looked broken. Unraveled. “I can’t… we need to move.” 

Brushing off Alex’s attempt to assist him, Richard struggled to his feet and took her hand once more. They set off down a narrow canyon, the towering walls blotting out the moon and stars. They made it maybe twenty yards when Alex heard the whispering. She stopped dead, yanking Richard to her side as she strained her ears. Voices were coming from the darkness directly ahead, their parched, gravel tones reminding her all too much of the man back in town. 

“Vile destroyer…” 

“Cannot let history repeat itself…” 

Fear trailed cold fingers up Alex’s spine as figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding them on all sides. 

“Stay the hell back!!” She snapped, trying to sound stronger than she felt. 

Richard rose to his full height beside her, a feat she knew wasn’t easy in his current state. He snarled, his eyes flashing in the dim light. “The first one to touch me loses their eyes.” 

Before either could make good on their threats the group attacked. They moved as a single unit – three grabbing Alex by her arms and middle, and the rest launching en mass at Richard, who, despite his injuries, was putting up a hell of a fight. 

Alex screamed and managed to kick one of the men holding her, but it only resulted in them slamming her into the ground hard enough to make her ears ring. Above her, the man closest to Richard managed to score a lucky shot to his ribs, sending him to the floor. Dimly, Alex realized this group was dressed similar to monks, but… different. Their robes were orange, almost blending into the desert around them. They pinned Richard to the ground, slamming him down as they had her only moments before. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” 

The crowd parted, and a newcomer strode into the light. They were tall, even taller than Richard, and imposing, their purple robes almost appearing to glow in the weak moonlight. Their face was serene, pale lips quirked just slightly, as if they knew the answer to something no one else did. 

“So chaos has found a Mantle. Troubling.” 

They stood above Richard as if appraising him. Suddenly their mask of indifference melted into a snarl, and they drove their heel down onto Richard’s head. “He’s already too strong.” 

Alex choked down a scream, tears dripping down her cheeks as her captor pressed her harder into the dirt. Yet her gasps caught the person’s attention. They towered over her, face mere inches from her own. 

“The Guards of Marduk did not come this far to see this _man_ fuck up our world,” they hissed, “Neither you, nor him, will set Tiamat free.” 

“Fuck you!” Alex spat, “You’re insane!!” 

“And you are a fool interfering with things you cannot comprehend.” The person (monk? Priest?) rose to their feet and gestured to the group. Once again they moved as one mind. They surrounded Richard, and Alex realized they meant to take him. 

“ _No!_ Richard! Fuck you!! _Richard!!!_ Get off of me!” 

She struggled against the people pinning her, but a blow to her head (a fist or foot, she wasn’t sure) left her stunned, and she was unable to do anything but watch as they dragged Richard off into the darkness. It was only when there was no hope in Alex’s retaliation that they let her go, leaving her lying on the desert floor, once again broken and alone. 


End file.
